Here's some ish I wrote...

Feel free to comment... Oh that's another thing. I write, I've always written- poetry, plays, journals, anything really. It's my favorite form of expression- although when it comes to writing for school, I often find it harder to write. It becomes a chore. I hate following directions, sticking to the format. It takes all the fun out of my passion for words on paper.

Anyways- Hope you enjoy.. More to follow...



Biting my lip not knowing

If you’re judging me

Placing me in a category, just because I act a certain way

Or because I was crying or over emotional

Last night. Or was it this morning? It’s all the same.

Are you able to look at life the way I do? Always worried about the way people

Relate to you? The way people judge you?

Deciding before they get to know you if you are worth their time. Their friendship.

It’s not fair. This life I live.

Some people may understand. Or at least say they do. But to deal with the fear

Of the next mania or depression, the

Roller coaster ride of daily life you have grown accustomed to, from the many

Doctors visits and feeling unsure about the future, just getting through

Each day is difficult, but in this life, this is not a choice it is a

Reality.

Here's an essay I wrote...

I have heard Bipolar described in a number of ways. “The waves of mania and depression are a non-stop roller coaster ride” or “Bipolar is chemical imbalance in the brain”. My current therapist often compares Bipolar to Diabetes, since living with this Bipolar requires you to constantly monitor your medication and unpredictable mood, similar to a diabetic monitoring their blood sugar. Even though I agree that these metaphors do their part in explaining the foundation of Bipolar Disorder, I feel that there are no words that can begin to illustrate the complexity of this illness. 

I was  nine years old when my parents finally coaxed me into visiting a therapist. 

It wouldn’t take long for me to loathe the weekly visits with the thin, red-headed pale woman, who would try to help me over the next 3 years. No one could understand why I was always crying at school and lashing out at home.  I would spend most of the session drawing or ignoring her altogether, trying to avoid the questions she was asking. It was right after I turned ten, that this women, who I already hated the thought of, mentioned the word, Bipolar. I felt my world had come crashing down, and even at age ten, still ignorant to what Bipolar was, I was terrified. Shortly after, I went on to see  a  psychiatrist, who gave me my full diagnosis and prescribed medication. In the years to follow, I would blame my doctors and parents, try to disprove my diagnosis, and do everything I could to try to be “normal”. All of my efforts would result in the painful discovery that my Bipolar was not going anywhere.

Over the past few years, being vocal about my diagnosis has become much easier. It has taken time and courage to get to the point where I can ignore the stigma and talk openly about my illness with teachers, co-workers and peers. There have been many times when I thought I would  be judged or misunderstood, and discussing Bipolar gives people the chance to prove me wrong. Unfortunately, most of the world is still uneducated about mental illness, which is the reason why I choose to speak up about my own life experiences. Bipolar has effected my entire life: in work, school, and everything in between. It hasn’t been until this past year that I finally realized,  I could either give up and let my life be taken over by the mood swings, or I could gain control and take my life back. 

Having Bipolar has been an overwhelming and painful journey. When my moods are steady, I feel great - almost “normal”. But even when I am taking my medication and going to therapy, I can slip into a manic or depressive state. Even through all of it’s pain, one of the amazing gifts this illness has given me has been empathy. I wish that the rest of the world would become more understanding and see that this mental illness does not make me who I am. Bipolar is a part of me, but it does not define me.